


Exorcising the Demon

by AmberBrown



Series: Earning Their Keep [17]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 17:53:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14478054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberBrown/pseuds/AmberBrown
Summary: After being very nearly attacked by a serial rapist, Athos has some inner turmoil to work through.





	Exorcising the Demon

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick one I bashed out because I think Athos had a bit of unfinished angst to get out of his system after the events of ‘From the Shadows.’  
> If you have not read the other stories in the series all you need to know is that Athos was attacked and very nearly raped. Aramis and d’Artagnan are in an established relationship (although they are not in this story). Other stories are mentioned but you do not need to have read them.

Athos could not breathe, the last breath he had taken hitched in his throat. The man had him, he could not fight back. Of course, he could not fight back, he was unconscious. The man would rape him, hurt him. Kill him?

How could he allow himself to be caught by the man? They had all known he was out there. Picking off lone soldiers. How could he leave himself open to attack? He had been so stupid. And now he would pay.

A hand on his chest, pushing him down. Fight back. Push the man away. Punch him.

‘Hey, Athos.’

The man knew his name. No, it was not the man. It was Porthos. His voice sounded concerned.

‘Wake up, you’re dreaming.’

Dreaming? So he was not being attacked? 

‘You’re safe. Athos.’

Athos opened his eyes, he blinked a few times. Porthos was looming over him, concern on his face. Porthos’ hand was resting lightly on Athos’ chest.

Athos remembered where he was. They were on a mission. Nothing taxing, just a missive delivery. They were on their way back to Paris. It had been late, the weather was awful. They had been glad when they came across the tavern. Its fire a welcome respite from the howling wind and rain. Porthos had brought them both food and wine. The amiable host had chatted with them for a while before wishing them good night. 

Tired but relaxed they had climbed the stairs to the room they were to share for the night. Porthos had stripped off his damp clothes and climbed into his small bed, the man had been asleep in minutes, snoring quietly. Athos had taken a while to drift off but the bed was comfortable. 

He had known the dream would come. It had been plaguing him for days now. He had just hoped he would wake on his own and not disturb his friend. 

He had been fine for a few days after the attack. But then the dream had started. When he had been attacked he was unable to fight back. After being knocked out there was nothing he could do. But he knew what had happened. He knew the man had dragged him away, had pulled his breeches and underclothes down to leave him exposed and vulnerable. He knew the man had been seconds away from raping him.

If d’Artagnan and Aramis had not arrived when they had he would have been the rapists next victim. Of course, Athos was relieved he had not been assaulted, but the fact that it had been as close as it was scared him. He could not think of a time he had been so helpless. 

When his brothers had returned two years before, beaten and traumatised after being captured and assaulted, Athos had not really known how to deal with them. Aramis had shut himself away whilst d’Artagnan had sought him out. The young man had wanted to talk, needed to talk about the rape he had endured. But Athos had been unable to empathise. Nothing, even vaguely similar, had happened to him in the past. He had been assaulted and beaten before, but nothing even slightly sexual had happened to him. It had annoyed him that he could not help d’Artagnan as the man wanted. But there was nothing he could say, with conviction, to help him.

Now, after nearly being raped himself he had two men who had offered to talk to him. Both Aramis and d’Artagnan had visited him the following day and told him he should talk about it. Athos had waved them away. It had not happened, he was grateful for their intervention, but he was fine. 

Athos was not fine. 

Athos had been deceiving himself. The rape may not have happened, but only by chance. By seconds. He felt pathetic for having the dreams. In the dreams, no one had come along and stopped the rape. No one had stopped the man from forcing himself into Athos. The first time he had woken from the dream he had been drenched in sweat, the sheets screwed up around him. He was glad he had been alone. 

He knew he should talk to someone. Knew he had friends who would understand. But he had not been raped. His trauma was nothing compared to what Aramis and d’Artagnan had suffered. He did not deserve to feel like they had. 

But now as he focused on Porthos he realised he was going to have to face the problem. Porthos would not let it rest. Porthos would make him talk.

‘Sorry,’ Athos managed to say, his voice quiet and cracked. 

‘It’s alright,’ replied Porthos with a small smile, although the concern had not left his eyes.

Porthos removed the hand from Athos’ chest and reached for the jug that lay on the table between the two beds in their room. He poured Athos a cup of water and handed it to him. Athos had pushed himself up to sit. He accepted the drink and took a few sips, trying to order his thoughts. 

‘You need to talk to someone about it.’

Athos looked at Porthos.

‘You were dreamin’ about the rape.’

‘I wasn’t raped,’ replied Athos.

Porthos shook his head slightly, ‘only just.’

Athos could not reply, he looked away. The feeling of shame washed over him again.

‘You know what they do,’ continued Porthos, ‘you know they talk. Aramis finds it difficult sometimes, but they both feel better for it.’

‘I wasn’t raped though,’ said Athos again.

Porthos reached over and gently turned Athos head to face him.

‘I doesn’t matter Athos, you were seconds away from being that bastards next victim...you really should talk about it.’

Porthos released Athos who did not look away again. He knew Porthos meant well.

‘I know it’s difficult, awkward. We’re soldiers. We shouldn’t be showing weakness. But we are only human. Things happen and sometimes they are...horrible. And sometimes talking about it helps.’

Porthos paused for a few seconds, looking away, before continuing.

‘I found it helped me…’

Athos was a little surprised at the statement. The surprise was obviously evident on his face. 

‘When d’Artagnan and I were taken by those men. The ones who wanted to get revenge on Aramis…’ Porthos paused again looking away, ‘one of them...assaulted me...touched me...I couldn’t prevent it. D’Artagnan was forced to watch. It was...horrible...humiliating...and terrifying.’

Athos stared, he was shocked. 

‘Why didn’t you say?’

‘I was embarrassed,’ replied Porthos, ‘and d’Artagnan and I decided it would upset Aramis too much. I’m fairly sure he knows something happened, but he was already feeling too guilty for us being taken in the first place.’

Athos thought for a few moments. He had known both Porthos and d’Artagnan had been assaulted during their time held captive, but he had no idea Porthos had been sexually assaulted. 

‘I’m sorry,’ said Athos who was unsure how to respond.

Porthos shook his head, ‘that’s now why I told you. I told you because after I talked to d’Artagnan I felt better. I still felt awful, but not as awful. I still felt used, abused and humiliated but somehow I felt better.’

Athos thought for a moment, ‘that might have worked for you but…’

‘No, Athos, do not suggest that you can deal with what happened to you alone. You are a more...reserved man...than I, but you are suffering. I’ve just watched you dreaming. You were dreaming about what might have been. Athos you were talking in your sleep.’

Athos felt himself redden with embarrassment. It was unusual for him to feel exposed. He rarely shared his feelings with the group. They did not, usually, try to get him to open up. Porthos was doing something that Athos had not expected. 

But, perhaps, talking about what had happened would help. It would not hurt.

‘You don’t have to talk, right now. You don’t have to talk to me, if you don’t want to. But please Athos, don’t bottle it up.’

Porthos, who had been sat on the edge of the bed, rose to return to his own bed. Athos reached out and grabbed his arm. Porthos sat back down.

‘I’m sorry, it is just...difficult for me...I’m not used to…’

Porthos smiled again and patted the hand that was resting on his arm, ‘no one else needs to know. I won’t repeat anything you say.’

Athos nodded, ‘thank you.’

When Athos did not release Porthos’ arm he realised he would be talking then and there. Porthos waited patiently. It took Athos a while to work out what to say.

‘I...do not want to talk to either of them, because I was not raped,’ he began, grateful when Porthos did not interrupt him.

‘I know that they would be more than happy to listen to me, but what they went through was worse. I only have the...the.’

Porthos said calmly, ‘how many times do I have to tell you...it doesn’t matter.’

Athos managed a nod, ‘I have never been that scared. I felt so pathetic in those few seconds before I lost consciousness. Knowing what was going to happen…even though it did not.’

Athos trailed off, the images of what might have happened turning around in his head. 

‘It doesn’t matter that it didn’t happen. It matters that it nearly did happen. That man was going to rape you, he was not pretending. He had every intention of doing it. When I scared him away from Aramis it was fairly close, but Athos, he was seconds away from attacking you. D’Artagnan said that if he had not got there when he did it would have been too late. You have nothing to be ashamed of. The way you feel is perfectly understandable.’

Athos looked away, he knew he was struggling to contain the pent up emotions he had been suppressing. He felt Porthos move to sit next to him on the bed. Despite knowing that he was not a tactile person Porthos had moved to lean against the wall putting his arm around Athos. Athos did not push him away. The closeness with his brother was oddly welcome.

Athos leaned back against Porthos who allowed him to get comfortable. 

‘D’Artagnan said, after he was raped, that he felt emasculated. I did not really understand him at the time. But I do now,’ said Athos after a few minutes, ‘knowing that I had no control over what was going to happen. Knowing that...that man...could do what he wanted...it was horrific. I remember thinking about the state he had left the other men in. I remember, selfishly wondering what state I would be in afterwards.’

‘It was not selfish for you to think like that,’ said Porthos quietly.

‘I know that,’ replied Athos. 

They were silent again for a few minutes before Athos spoke again.

‘It was a few days later when I had the first dream. They are always the same. I regain consciousness as the man is raping me, I can feel everything he is doing...even though I have no idea what...that...would feel like.’

‘But you can guess.’

Athos nodded, ‘I thought it would go away, but the dreams have become worse, more vivid. I’m sorry.’

Porthos sighed, ‘there you go again, apologising. We know you don’t like to talk, but we are here when you need to.’

Athos managed a smile, ‘thank you. I do feel better for this. You were right.’

‘I frequently am.’

They lapsed into silence again. Athos could feel his eyes drooping. He knew he was going to fall asleep. He should move away from Porthos, but the closeness was, on this occasion, welcome. He suspected his brother would happily remain where he was if he fell asleep. 

For the first time since the attack, Athos felt at peace.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> Porthos was sexually assaulted in ‘Vengeance’; Aramis and d’Artagnan were both raped in ‘Earning Their Keep.’
> 
> I have another story, for this series, that I am still writing and will post in the next couple of weeks. I am open to suggestions for any future stories, either for this series or independent ones.


End file.
